


Little Achievements

by almaasi



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: (apparently? according to Sid and Andy), (i.e. the actual actors of Garak and Bashir performing queer shippy fanfic on video), Alexander Siddig - Freeform, Andrew Robinson, Comedy, Embedded Video, Fluff, Garashir - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, I can’t believe this happened but somehow it did, Little Achievements, M/M, Making this Ship Semi-Canon After 27 Years, Neurodivergent Julian Bashir, Original Non-Binary Character - Freeform, Queer Relationship, Romance, Schmoop, Screenplay/Script Format, Sid City Social Club, Starring:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:13:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26073979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaasi/pseuds/almaasi
Summary: A DS9 story about the everyday things we should be proud of.★Chapter 1:Embedded video starring Alexander Siddig as Julian Bashir and Andrew Robinson as Elim Garak, performing this Garashir play written by me.Chapter 2:Script!Chapter 3:Fic version! (Plus author’s notes about which lines Sid and Andy added themselves.)★‘Little Achievements’is a fanfic come to life, written by a queer and neurodivergent fan with other queer and neurodivergent fans in mind. Set 20 years after the end of‘Star Trek: Deep Space Nine’, it takes a look at where Garak and Bashir are now, and turns subtext into text.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 56
Kudos: 296
Collections: Sid City Social Club Script Collection





	1. Video

**Author's Note:**

> [TUMBLR REBLOG (including links to each chapter here)](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/627287319182016513/little-achievements-a-20-minute-garashir-play)
> 
> Video & script contain spoilers for the end of DS9 season 7, and past Julian/Ezri.

**CREDITS:**  
 **Writer & Director** \- Elmie K-E / [@almaasi](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/) (AO3 and tumblr)  
 **Producer** \- Melissa Lowery / SidCity.net  
 **Dr. Julian Bashir** \- Alexander Siddig  
 **Elim Garak** \- Andrew Robinson  
 **Dr. Renna Illa & Story Contributor** \- Irena Komunjer / [@Syaunei](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/)  
 **Colonel Randy & Story Contributor** \- Randy Roy  
 **Computer Voice & Story Contributor** \- Prerna Sitomer  
 **Story Contributor** \- Aoife Murphy / [@ConceptaDecency](https://conceptadecency.tumblr.com/)  
 **Script Format Consultant** \- Giuditta Natale  
 **Video Editor** \- Talya Sayram  
 **Video Captioner** \- Savannah Graves 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT CHAPTER: Script!
> 
> In case you’re wondering how the hell this happened:
> 
> ⋆ **May 1st 2020:** Elmie attends their first [Sid City Social Club](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/623090041070206976/hello-im-such-a-fan-of-your-blog-and-im-about).  
> ⋆ **May 22nd 2020:** Elmie talks to Siddig, audience goes wild. Elmie shows Sid [(1) their](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/190357052880/angelictroublemaker-almaasi-this-is-me) [(2) Garashir](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/617049243884109824/checks-notes-uhhhhhhh-one-order) [(3) fanart](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/622360557532692480/rebelqueero-datalaur-conceptadecency) (with prior permission from organiser Mel). Sid is intrigued by audience response to Elmie and invites them back next week to talk to readers.  
> ⋆ **May 29th 2020:** [Elmie enjoys a half-hour Q&A session with readers and Sid](https://youtu.be/Ka4NIBUGKxA?t=3460), ft. discussions about autistic Julian, and characterisation. Elmie wonders if they could write Garak and Bashir accurately enough in a script format that Sid or Andy would not want to change the writing in order to perform it. Sid invites Elmie to submit a script.  
> ⋆ **June 29th 2020:** Elmie emails Mel a script entitled “Little Achievements”, which takes inspiration from the interests and emotional situation of many regular Social Club attendees.  
> ⋆ **July 7th 2020:** Elmie’s birthday (the 8th in New Zealand). In the space of a minute, Sid wishes Elmie a happy birthday and announces that he and Andy will perform the script. (Elmie sends two updated versions of the script in the following weeks.)  
> ⋆ **August 4th 2020:** Elmie offers director’s suggestions. Sid wants to change one line. (“Julian would never say thank you to a computer, it’s an inanimate object.” Elmie disagrees but lets him have that.)  
> ⋆ **August 11th 2020:** “Little Achievements” is performed live before a Social Club record-breaking 192 people. (In the days after: Elmie emails Mel feedback and suggestions for Sid and Andy, and makes changes with their fan crew to improve the look of the performance.)  
> ⋆ **August 14th 2020:** Performance 2, live before a second record-breaking 201 people. (Following technical issues during one scene, the final video is cut using footage recorded after the meeting, with audio from the first performance.)  
> ⋆ **August 22nd 2020:** “Little Achievements” is posted on YouTube. Sid is still enthused about the play (and about Elmie). ♥


	2. Script

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the final version of the script sent to Sid and Andy.
> 
> Andy printed his and read from it (thank you if you had your fingers crossed for his Internet connection and printer - both worked in time!), while Sid read his script off the screen. During the first performance I noticed the glare from Sid’s laptop made it really hard to see his eyes, so I offered him an inverted-colour script (white text on black background) to reduce glare, and it worked wonderfully during the second performance.
> 
> AO3 can’t format the way the proper script was formatted, so if you want to see that, here:  
> ⋆ **[Original script](http://bit.ly/little-achievements-script)** (Andy’s - white background, black text)  
> ⋆ **[Inverted script](http://bit.ly/little-achievements-script-inverted)** (Sid’s - black background, white text)
> 
> I’d like to take a moment to appreciate the mostly-accidental symbolism of them having opposite-coloured scripts, and once I (via Mel) had convinced Andy to change his clothes and let his hair down, they were dressed dark-on-light and light-on-dark.
> 
> Exquisite. Can’t get more Garashir than that.

**LITTLE ACHIEVEMENTS**  
VERSION 4  
  
\---  
  
A mini DS9 story  
about the everyday things  
we should be proud of.

For Sid, Andy, and Mel.

Written by Elmie K-E (@almaasi).  
August 2020  
  
\---  
  


**1\. INT. STARFLEET RUNABOUT - NIGHT**

A 54-year-old JULIAN BASHIR sits facing the runabout ship’s viewscreen (a.k.a. the webcam). He’s looking down and adjusting controls, dressed in a comfortable henley-type shirt with an open collar. He looks up and glances around the viewscreen in dismay.

BASHIR  
(to Computer)  
Computer, how long until we’re out of the Dead Zone? Any second now, surely.

COMPUTER (O.S.)  
Now leaving Dead Zone. Runabout communication signal reinstated.

BASHIR  
Aha! Finally. Alright. Time for a cup of tea, I think.

Bashir turns away, ready to head for the replicator, but--

COMPUTER (O.S.)  
Blee-bleep!

Bashir turns back.

BASHIR  
Hello? What’s happening now?

COMPUTER (O.S.)  
Incoming transmission from Cardassia Prime.

BASHIR  
On screen.

A familiar yet not-quite-right Human face appears on Bashir’s viewscreen. The fellow is settled contentedly in a flourishing green garden. ELIM GARAK smiles.

GARAK  
And thus, he emerges. It’s been far too long, Doctor.

BASHIR  
It’s only been a few days-- Garak, why the hell do you look Human?

GARAK  
Oh!

Garak turns his head back and forth as if admiring himself in a mirror.

GARAK (CONT’D)  
It’s one of those ‘filter applications’. Do you like it?

BASHIR  
Not even a little bit. Turn it off.

GARAK  
(playfully)  
I will not. Tell me, Doctor, how was your trip? I assume you have in fact accepted the oh-so-prestigious Carrington Award you set out to collect?

BASHIR  
Yes.

He busies himself with ship controls, subdued.

BASHIR (CONT’D)  
Yes; I am now Dr. Julian Subatoi Bashir, Carrington Award winner at the ripe young age of fifty-four.

GARAK  
My heartiest congratulations. Truly, a lifetime’s achievement! I would say it could not have come sooner, but we both know you’ve squandered many an opportunity to win over the years. I’m glad my absolute _insistence_ that you accept first place this time has done you a welcome service. You deserve this, Doctor.

BASHIR  
Hm.

GARAK  
(concerned)  
I realise that quaint Earth saying of yours has little meaning out there, but... why are you not ‘over the moon’?

Bashir opens his mouth to answer, when--

COMPUTER (O.S.)  
Blee-bleep!

GARAK  
You have an incoming message?

BASHIR  
I suppose everything’s catching up with me now I have signal. Excuse me a minute, Garak...  
(to Computer)  
On screen.

The painted face of a recent medical adversary replaces Garak’s on the viewscreen. COLONEL RANDY’S smug smile grows.

COLONEL RANDY  
Dr. Bashir.

BASHIR  
(curtly)  
Colonel. To what do I owe the pleasure?

COLONEL RANDY  
Just wanted to acknowledge your awesome win ‘face to face’, that’s all. But hey, since I’m here... While we didn’t exactly part ways as rivals, but you as the victor and I the _woefully_ overlooked... I _do_ intend to oust you as the Quadrant’s most celebrated medical marvel by this time next year.

BASHIR  
Oh. Well. I mean - go right ahead. Go for it. The floor’s all yours.

COLONEL RANDY  
Aw, not gonna fight me this time? Given your weird affection for verbal sparring on the Carrington debate stage I figured you’d have a few choice phrases for me.

BASHIR  
If that’s why you think I won, because I find a decent argument inspiring every now and then...

COLONEL RANDY  
No, you won because you’re the gifted child who never burned out. Whether or not someone like you should’ve been allowed to get nominated in the first place is a whooole other debate.

BASHIR  
(coldly)  
Someone like me... You mean an augment?

COLONEL RANDY  
(fake surprised)  
You’re an augment?

Bashir rubs his face in frustration.

BASHIR  
Don’t you have better things to do, Colonel? If you’re really set on taking the prize next year then I suppose you have a lot of work to be getting on with, don’t you?

COLONEL RANDY  
Ooh, spicy.

Bashir leans forward, ready to end the transmission.

BASHIR  
Listen here, Colonel Randy. I have actual friends who don’t sit around trying to decide whether or not I should be allowed to participate despite my disabilities _or_ the so-called ‘corrections’ that were made against my will. Thank you for your opinion, but I’m cutting you off.

Colonel Randy makes a pleased, but not especially pleasant-sounding noise.

COLONEL RANDY  
As if I’d let you get the last word again. Seeya around, Doc. Colonel out.

The view flashes back to Garak. Bashir lets out a sigh of relief.

GARAK  
It seems you have a rival to best. And a rather unpleasant one, at that.

BASHIR  
You were listening in?!

GARAK  
You had both our communication lines open at once, Doctor. I wonder, how does the threat of being usurped so quickly sit with you?

Bashir laughs gently, dismissing the idea and relaxing.

BASHIR  
Look, Garak, I’ve won my award. Like you said, it’s the achievement of a lifetime. It is something I’ve wanted for all of my adult life. Nobody can take it away, can they? Other people deserve the spotlight too.

GARAK  
How noble of you to allow it.  
(changing the subject)  
My apologies for not being able to attend the ceremony. Given the change in the weather, the garden really did need all of my attention.

BASHIR  
(amused)  
Oh, please. You just didn’t dare set foot on Andoria. And quite right too - wouldn’t want the cold to aggravate your rheumatism.

GARAK  
My knees are perfectly fine. It’s the orchids that are fragile.

BASHIR  
If you say so. Any chance you’ve intercepted my messages for me while I was out of range?

GARAK  
A certain _family_ has left me with copious praises and compliments to pass on. So copious, in fact, you’d be better off hearing it all from them directly.

BASHIR  
Let me guess. Miles and Keiko? Aunt Nerys?

GARAK  
Proclamations all co-signed by their offspring, assorted pets, and unborn grandchildren, yes. I do hope I’ll never be that embarrassing.

BASHIR  
I think it’s sweet.  
(suddenly remembering)  
Oh - my ‘date’ says hello.

GARAK  
Does she.

BASHIR  
She wore the most bedazzling dress to the ceremony, Garak. You would’ve loved seeing it in action.

GARAK  
Mm. How _is_ dear Ezri?

BASHIR  
Overworked. Frankly I think she was relieved to get some time off from Trill Symbiosis 101 to attend the ceremony with me. But! Now it’s over she’s off back to Trill, back to her students. You know, it didn’t even feel like a real date, me and her. Even saying it felt ridiculous.

GARAK  
(glad)  
Oh?

BASHIR  
You would not believe the number of times I had to explain to people, yes, we were together for a couple of months, _twenty years ago_ , but our romance days are long, long over. It was great to have a friend along, though, I’ll say _that_ much. I mean, since _Mr. Garak_ had better things to do, and all.

COMPUTER (O.S.)  
Blee-bleep!

BASHIR  
Uh-oh, I’m popular today.  
(to Computer)  
On screen.  
(to Renna Illa)  
Ah! Hello, Dr. Renna.

A creature of great poise takes up the view now: a coiled bush of red hair is tied up around her pale face with a patterned headscarf. DR. RENNA ILLA smiles, crinkling her Bajoran nose ridges.

RENNA ILLA  
Hello. You left your medical scanner on my ship, Doctor. If you and I ever cross paths again, I’d be happy to return it...

She gets distracted, noticing another person is present for the conversation.

RENNA ILLA (CONT’D)  
And hello to your friend, too? You must be...?

BASHIR  
Oh, this is Garak. I think I... might’ve mentioned him a few times at the afterparty. He’s wearing some silly filter, don’t mind his face.

RENNA ILLA  
Garak! Goodness, he’s even more handsome than you described, Doctor. Even as a Human.

Bashir is embarrassed by that comment but chuckles.

GARAK  
May I say, Dr. Renna: what a _splendid_ headscarf it is you’re wearing.

RENNA ILLA  
It has moba leaves on it! Hand-painted on Talarian silk! Ah, it's so hard to find good fashion these days...

BASHIR  
Sorry for the interruption, Doctor. My ‘ _friend_ ’... is certainly not meant to be poking his nose in where it doesn’t belong, but he does do that no matter what I tell him.

RENNA ILLA  
Oh, I don’t mind at all. In fact I’m glad I caught your dear Mr. Garak.  
(to Garak)  
Any chance I might commission you for a sartorial piece? I gather you do mighty splendid things with fabric.

GARAK  
(impatient)  
Apologies, dear lady, but I’m retired. Thank you for your message, Dr. Renna, but if we could just move along--

RENNA ILLA  
Pity... It seems all the good tailors are either retired or dead... And Dr. Bashir was so _eager_ to inform all the nominees that you designed his entire wardrobe. Is it just a hobby these days?

GARAK  
(more impatient)  
Yes, yes!

BASHIR  
He’ll take your commission, Renna. _Won’t you_ , Garak?

GARAK  
Fine. I suppose. Contact me at Garak’s Clothiers on Cardassia Prime.

BASHIR  
There we go. That wasn’t so bad, was it?  
(to Renna)  
The new shop is a little out of the way, since Garak decided he needed some country air after the great Cardassian rebuild, but you’ll find it. Um - well done, by the way, Renna. For being runner-up.

RENNA ILLA  
Congratulations to you too, Doctor. I’ll hold onto your medical scanner until I have a chance to drop by. I hear Cardassia’s just lovely this time of year. Renna out!

Renna Illa ends her transmission.

BASHIR  
Garak, what was that all about? She was perfectly lovely to me at the ceremony. You didn’t need to hurry her along like that.

GARAK  
I was in the middle of a conversation with you, Doctor. You can hardly begrudge me for wanting to get back to it...  
(ponderous)  
She _was_ a bit young...

BASHIR  
Young?

He searches Garak’s face for answers, but struggles, as Garak is missing his usual Cardassian features.

BASHIR (CONT’D)  
What do you mean, ‘young’?

GARAK  
Only that most of the Carrington Award nominees seem to be little more than larvae these days.

BASHIR  
Yes, well, the idea of waiting until you’re a hundred years old before collecting all due accolades has fallen out of fashion a bit.  
(uncomfortable)  
All the other nominees this year were younger than me, weren’t they?

He tries to reason with his own anxiety.

BASHIR (CONT’D)  
I could’ve won the award twenty-five years ago, but I didn’t want to win it when I was younger. Once you win this thing - your medical career’s peaked. There’s basically nowhere higher to aim.

GARAK  
Ohhh, I’m sure you’ll find something productive to do to occupy your time in the coming years.

BASHIR  
(smiling)  
Like you? You, collecting every Cardassian flower in existence for your garden. Sewing dresses. Knitting.

GARAK  
There is contentment to be found in the simplest of things, Doctor. For example--

GARAK’S COMPUTER (O.S.)  
Blarp!

BASHIR  
That one’s definitely at your end.

GARAK  
(irritated)  
It’s just a message.

Garak gives the message a glance on a handheld device, and relaxes a bit, but not completely.

GARAK (CONT’D)  
Hm. The seeds I ordered will be delivered tomorrow before noon.

He looks eagerly back to Bashir, who is smiling again.

BASHIR  
By the sound of it, my dear Mr. Garak, we’ve both achieved our life’s goals. Aren’t those the last flowers you need for your collection?

GARAK  
They’re hardly flowers, Doctor. There’s little point in counting blooms before the seeds are sown.

BASHIR  
(with mounting unease)  
But what will you do once you’re done? What do you want from life now you’ve achieved the thing you set out to achieve? Now you have to maintain a garden, and keep up appearances, and that’s a whole job, isn’t it--

He realises he’s babbling but can’t stop.

BASHIR (CONT’D)  
I mean, did you wait too long? Or did you finish too soon? You have other hobbies - creativity left, right, and centre - but what are my special interests, what do I have? I mean, there’s the holosuite games, and the literary analysis with you over lunch, but there’s nothing I can really devote my life to besides medicine - and I’ve won that game, haven’t I, so unless I take up tennis again and rip my shoulder to pieces, what--

GARAK  
Doctor! Doctor...  
(gently, with a smile)  
Julian...

He collects up a thought, then presents it.

GARAK (CONT’D)  
Between a rock and a hard place, the strongest and most unexpected of flowers will set down their roots. Your future may seem like a wasteland to you now, but with unmediated devotion lavished upon yourself, the second half of your life could in fact become a thriving--

COMPUTER (O.S.)  
Blee-bleep!

GARAK  
Oh, for pity’s sake! What must I give to have a decent, uninterrupted conversation with my husband?!

BASHIR  
(to Computer)  
Computer, dismiss message.

Garak gives a heavy sigh, then offers Bashir a fond and encouraging look.

GARAK  
There is plenty to do here on Cardassia, Julian. Perhaps you’ll call me a hypocrite for saying it, but there’s no need to lie to yourself. You do tend to put on a mask...

He gestures at his Human-looking face to indicate his own ‘mask’.

GARAK (CONT’D)  
A filter... You’ll play the role of a determined man, one eager to best all and come out on top. Yet it’s clear you’re most alive when you’re--

BASHIR  
Losing?

GARAK  
Kept busy. Helping people. Elbow-deep in a problem without a visible solution, tackling one small task at a time until you discover the end result. You don’t need awards, Doctor. As I’ve said... the simplest things can be their own rewards. You only need impress yourself.

BASHIR  
(fond mocking)  
Oh, here we go. And how might I do that? ‘Impress myself’.

GARAK  
How might you, indeed? By tending a seedling for a year until it presents its first dewy bloom. By cooking a meal for our friends and family, as you have done with remarkable skill all this time. And, needless to say, my dear, by making a grouchy old Cardassian feel exceptionally loved.

Bashir beams and makes an affectionate noise.

GARAK  
I suggest you turn this empty space in your life into a garden. Achieve nothing. Yet appreciate everything.

BASHIR  
‘Empty space in your life’. Talking of empty spaces, Garak, why aren’t you here? Why didn’t you come with me to collect my award? And don’t tell me it was the orchids. Or your knees.

Garak is surprised his good advice is being opposed, but then he offers a wide and sly smile, eye contact intense.

GARAK  
My dear Doctor, do you mean to say you miss me?

BASHIR  
Garak!

GARAK  
Tell me, why do you think I made sure you collected your prize at long last? Are you surprised to discover that such academic triumph leaves you underwhelmed these days? Did it ever truly please you, Doctor? Or are you still trying to impress your parents?

Bashir hates the idea.

BASHIR  
What?! I’m not trying to-- I haven’t talked to either of them in years, why would I be--? For goodness’ sake--

He grapples with the concept and eventually gives in.

BASHIR (CONT’D)  
(cross)  
Hmm. God, you’re right. Of course you’re right. I mean, it’s not that I’m trying to please them, or anyone, really, but it is immensely hard to let that sort of thing go, isn’t it? Even after years. Everything in my life taught me I’m only worth the air I breathe if I do something useful with my time and have the credentials to prove it.

GARAK  
And quite the fallacy that is.

BASHIR  
Look, Garak, thanks for the therapy, but you’d better not have sent me out here by myself to have a grand old time being disappointed just to hammer home a point. You’ve spent twenty years learning how to communicate in healthier ways, so if I were you I’d put all that practise to good use and tell me what you’re really trying to say here.

GARAK  
(laughing)  
You truly expect me to tell you? Just like that? My dear Doctor, why express something outright when one can imply?

BASHIR  
Oh, right, like you ‘imply’ whenever you want a ‘foot massage’? Come on, out with it, Garak. I know you’re capable.

Garak gives a huge sigh and decides he values trust over a few more moments of mischief.

GARAK  
I had hoped that solitude on the journey back would make you more acutely aware of what you value for yourself and nobody else. Perhaps you’d realise that your biggest successes are in fact the little achievements.  
(uncomfortable)  
In all our years together, my dear, it seems your excessive ‘sentiment’ has rather corrupted my thinking. It does repulse me to say it, but--

BASHIR  
Don’t say it, then. I’ll say it. I need to say it. The important things in my life are what I value and whatever makes me feel fulfilled. Even if they’re tiny, everyday things. Or even if they’re not measurable. They’re meaningful to me. Is that what you were going for?

GARAK  
(disgusted)  
I would not have used a single one of those words, but unfortunately, yes.

BASHIR  
(smiling)  
And I’ll say something else, Garak. I think... I think you’re right.

He ponders this, then chuckles.

BASHIR (CONT’D)  
If anything, the biggest success in my life is somehow keeping you around all these years...

Garak gives a coy, knowing hum. Bashir is both dazzled and disturbed.

BASHIR (CONT’D)  
Garak! Did you send me away so I’d miss you? And then what, I’d realise exactly how much I love you? You did, didn’t you. My god, you’re the same as you ever were.

GARAK  
Oh, we all change. For better or for worse. It is inevitable.  
(warmly)  
Come home to me, my dear.

Bashir looks into Garak’s eyes, heart warm and aching with affection. He sees a long and full life before him all of a sudden, and it’s a good one. He nods.

BASHIR  
I’ll be there soon, Elim.

  
  
\---  
  
**FIN**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT CHAPTER: Fic version! And a list of the lines Sid and Andy added and removed on the fly.


	3. Fanfic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had never written a proper script before, so began by writing a more comfortable format: a fic. What’s in this chapter is not the original fic, as so much was added and improved upon during script revisions, during the performances, discussed behind the scenes, and spoken aloud during the post-performance author Q&As. I’ve woven all my favourite moments into the fic, so hopefully this is the best version of everything. (I’ve also included acting choices from Sid and Andy from the first performance, which aren’t in the YouTube video. Only the lucky people who watched the first one live in Gallery View would’ve seen Andy get genuinely emotional.)
> 
> Beta’d by my sister [Amara (sweetdreamspootypie)](https://sweetdreamspootypie.tumblr.com/), and my dear friends [anupalya](https://anupalya.tumblr.com/), and [Aoife (ConceptaDecency)](https://conceptadecency.tumblr.com/). (Also thanks to [captain-athos](https://captain-athos.tumblr.com/)!) Dr. Renna Illa’s lines and backstory were almost entirely thought up by the actress herself, [Irena (Syaunei)](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/).

One part of the universe never looked quite like another. From debris to destination worlds, the diversity of the cosmos was so extensive that Julian could turn his ship upwards, sideways, or backwards (or forty degrees upwards-sideways-backwards) and recognise none of the landmarks.

Yet, here, the view through the runabout’s viewscreen was pretty uniform.

Big.

Black.

It had been black for a number of days now. That amount of blackness indicated not an absence of mass, but so much dust all around that no light or comm signal could get through. Julian would’ve steered around the Dead Zone, but he wanted to get back home as fast as possible. Unwilling to spend a week travelling alone, spending a few days cut off from all outside contact seemed a frustrating but reasonable exchange, given it meant this trip would be over sooner. At least he had the computer to talk to.

He was almost out of the cloud. It seemed to be fading...

Any minute...

Julian searched the screen, watching bright patches of stars drift in and out of existence before they were swallowed up by wisps of blackness.

“Computer, how long until we’re out of the Dead Zone? Any second now, surely.”

The computer chirped, “ _Now leaving Dead Zone. Runabout communication signal reinstated._ ”

“Aha! Finally.” Julian swivelled in his pilot’s chair and happily dismissed the alert: “Thank yooou, Computer. Alright! Time for a cup of tea.” He turned his chair towards the replicator.

The computer bleeped again, and he twisted back. “Hello? What’s happening now?”

“ _Incoming transmission from Cardassia Prime,_ ” the computer said.

“On screen,” Julian said, as a small frown of concern pinched between his brows. For a message to come in so soon after he left the cloud, whoever was contacting him had to have been trying to get through every few minutes. Perhaps an emergency...?

Fuzzing onto the screen came a vaguely familiar face, but not familiar enough: he looked Human. The man smiled, his pink lips stretching wider in his glee. “ _And thus, he emerges,_ ” Garak said. “ _It’s been far too long, Doctor._ ”

Julian replied, “It’s only been a few days— Garak, why the hell do you look Human?”

“ _Oh!_ ” Garak tilted his head back and forth as if admiring himself in the mirror. “ _It’s one of those ‘filter applications’. Do you like it?_ ”

“Not even a little bit.” Julian scowled. “Turn it off.”

“ _I will not,_ ” Garak retorted, firmly but playfully. He leaned back into a sunbeam, and more of his flower garden became visible around his façade: pastel-coloured Cardassian lilies glistened with morning dew, beside hanging vines gently swaying as birds hopped between them. Further back were twisted, humongous buds not yet ready to bloom, all set against a pale yellow sky.

“ _Tell me, Doctor,_ ” Garak said, “ _how was your trip? I assume you have in fact accepted the oh-so-prestigious Carrington Award you set out to collect?_ ”

“Yes.” Julian lowered his gaze and busied himself adjusting course by a micro-fraction of a degree. “Yes; I am now Dr. Julian Subatoi Bashir, Carrington Award winner at the ripe _young_ age of fifty-four.”

“ _My heartiest congratulations. Truly, a lifetime’s achievement! I would say it could not have come sooner, but we both know you’ve squandered many an opportunity to win over the years. I’m glad my absolute_ insistence _that you accept first place this time has done you a welcome service._ ” Garak leaned in to impress: “ _You_ deserve _this, Doctor._ ”

“Hm.” Julian adjusted a slider on the console and scrunched his lips to one side. He did enjoy a good compliment, but somehow that particular one missed the mark.

Garak leaned closer, concerned by Julian’s lack of enthusiasm. “ _I realise that quaint Earth saying of yours has little meaning out there, but... why are you not ‘over the moon’?_ ”

Julian took a breath to answer when a _blee-bleep_ sounded from the runabout’s computer.

“ _You have an incoming message?_ ” Garak wondered.

“I suppose everything’s catching up with me now I have signal,” Julian said, reaching to open communications. “Excuse me a minute, Garak... On screen.”

The blue face of a recent medical adversary replaced Garak’s on the viewscreen. Their smug smile grew; their eyes flamed; they opened their mouth to speak.

“ _Dr. Bashir._ ” A pleasantly weighty voice, though tinged with obvious dislike for Julian.

“Colonel,” Julian nodded in respect, but didn’t keep the terse impatience out of his reply: “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“ _Just wanted to acknowledge your awesome win ‘face to face’, that’s all._ ”

Oh?

Surprising. They hadn’t seemed so eager to congratulate him at the Carrington event itself...

“ _But hey, since I’m here..._ ”

Ah, there it was.

“ _While we didn’t exactly part ways as rivals, but you as the victor and I the_ woefully _overlooked... I_ do _intend to oust you as the Quadrant’s most celebrated medical marvel by this – time – next – year._ ”

They clearly meant it, too; barely-contained fury blazed behind their casual tone.

“Oh.” Julian shrugged carelessly. “Well. I mean – go right ahead. Go for it. The floor’s all yours.”

“ _Aw, not gonna fight me this time?_ ” The smirk on the Andorian-Trill’s lips only grew. “ _Given your weird affection for verbal sparring on the Carrington debate stage I figured you’d have a few choice phrases for me._ ”

Irritation blazed through Julian’s head and hands. “If that’s why you think I won, because I find a decent argument inspiring every now and then—”

“ _No, you won because you’re the gifted child who never burned out._ ”

The Colonel spoke so confidently, both now and at the ceremony, but Julian did wonder if... perhaps, there was an element of fear beneath it all. Given only pure Trills could be joined with a symbiont, Colonel Randy, being half Andorian, had never been allowed that chance. Endless opportunities had been struck from their life’s story at birth. On top of all that, they’d lost this year’s winning title to an off-worlder on their own home soil. Colonel Randy’s anger made sense, as obviously Julian could empathise with anyone who was prevented from doing what they wanted because of something genetic they couldn’t help – but the Colonel immediately ruined their chances with him, because they followed up with a mutter of, “ _Whether or not someone like you should’ve been allowed to get nominated in the first place is a whooole other debate._ ”

“‘Someone like me’,” Julian repeated, coldly. “You mean an augment?”

The Colonel recoiled in feigned surprise. “ _You’re an augment?_ ”

Julian had had enough of people like this. No matter whether someone hated him for coming so far practically unimpeded, despite being a walking, talking crime, or they hated him jealously for having been altered in the first place, the hatred was exhausting to him, and he didn’t care about trying to change minds anymore.

“Don’t you have better things to do, Colonel?” Julian asked. He lifted his eyes and gave the viewscreen a dull stare. “If you’re really set on taking the prize next year then I suppose you have a lot of _work_ to be getting on with, don’t you?”

“ _Ooh, spicy._ ”

Julian leaned forward, ready to end the transmission. “Listen here, Colonel Randy. I have _actual friends_ who don’t sit around trying to decide whether or not I should be allowed to participate despite my disabilities, _or_ the so-called ‘corrections’ that were made against my will. Thank you for your opinion, but I’m cutting you off.”

Colonel Randy made a pleased, but not especially pleasant-sounding noise. “ _As if I’d let you get the last word again. Seeya around, Doc. Colonel out._ ”

And then, just like that, they were gone.

The screen flashed back to Garak’s Human-looking face. To Julian, the sight was uncomfortably void of the greyness he was used to, void of the friendly reptilian eye-ridges that showed his expressions far better than those funny white eyebrows.

“ _It seems you have a serious rival to best,_ ” Garak mused. “ _And a rather unpleasant one, at that._ ”

Julian raised his eyebrows. “You were listening in?”

“ _You had both our communication lines open at once, Doctor. I wonder, how does the threat of being usurped so quickly sit with you?_ ”

With a gentle laugh, Julian dismissed the idea. “Look, Garak, I’ve won my award. Like you said, it’s the achievement of a lifetime. It _is_ something I’ve wanted for all of my adult life. Nobody can take it away, can they? Other people deserve the spotlight too.”

“ _How noble of you to allow it._ ”

Garak then sniffed a breath in and changed the subject: “ _My apologies for not being able to attend the ceremony. Given the change in the weather, the garden really did need all of my attention._ ”

“Oh, please,” Julian smirked. “You just didn’t dare set foot on Andoria. And quite right too – wouldn’t want the _cold_ to aggravate your _rheumatism_.”

Garak scoffed. “ _My knees are perfectly fine. It’s the orchids that are fragile._ ”

“If you say so.”

“ _Oh, I do say so._ ”

“Any chance you’ve intercepted my messages for me while I was out of range?”

There was every chance, in fact. Garak hacked Julian’s messages daily, and they both pretended Julian didn’t know about it.

“ _Aah... A certain family has left me with copious praises and compliments to pass on. So copious, in fact, you’d be better off hearing it all from them directly._ ”

Julian grinned. “Let me guess. Miles and Keiko? Aunt Nerys?”

“ _Proclamations all co-signed by their offspring, assorted pets, and unborn grandchildren, yes._ ” Garak added in a mumble, “ _I do hope I’ll never be that embarrassing._ ”

“I think it’s sweet,” Julian said. He already looked forward to going through the messages once he got home; his chest grew warmer at the thought.

“Oh!” He straightened in his pilot’s chair now he’d remembered, “My ‘date’ says hello.”

“ _Does she,_ ” came Garak’s flat reply.

“She wore the most bedazzling dress to the ceremony, Garak,” Julian smiled, enlivened and wistful at once. “You would’ve _loved_ seeing it in action.”

“ _Mm... And how_ is _dear Ezri?_ ”

Julian sighed, eyes drifting as he recalled the fog of deep thought around Ezri’s person. He’d really had to fight to distract her from it. “Overworked. Frankly I think she was relieved to get some time off from Trill Symbiosis 101 to attend the ceremony with me. But! Now it’s over, she’s off back to Trill, back to her students.”

“ _Hmm._ ”

Julian pondered, head tilting a little, “You know, it didn’t even feel like a real date, me and her. Even saying it felt ridiculous.”

Garak brightened up a bit. “ _Oh?_ ”

Julian threw his head back in exasperation. “You would not _believe_ the number of times I had to explain to people, yes, we were together for a couple of months, _twenty years ago_ , but our romance days are long, _long_ over.” He shook his head at Garak, not bothering to hide his disappointment. “It was great to have a friend along, though, I’ll say _that_ much. I mean, since _Mr. Garak_ had better things to do, and all.”

The computer’s bleep distracted from Garak’s unsaid reply.

“Uh-oh, I’m popular today,” Julian uttered. “On screen. ”

A creature of great poise took up his view now, her coiled bush of red hair tied up around her pale face with a patterned headscarf.

“Ah! Hello, Dr. Renna.”

“ _Hello._ “ Dr. Renna smiled, crinkling her Bajoran nose ridges. “ _You left your medical scanner on my ship, Doctor._ ”

Julian set both hands atop his head in dismayed realisation. After all that nonsense being shuttled around between event halls and ballrooms, meeting and greeting a few hundred people, he knew he’d misplaced an item or two. A genetically enhanced brain unfortunately didn’t prevent things from falling out of his bag.

Voice rich with warmth, Dr. Renna went on, “ _Not to worry. If you and I ever cross paths again, I’d be happy to return it..._ ”

She became distracted, eyes darting away from Julian’s. She hesitated, then said, “ _And hello to your friend, too?_ ”

“ _Oh,_ ” Garak said gently, noticing he’d been noticed.

Dr. Renna asked, “ _Aaaand... you might be?_ ”

“Oh, this is Garak,” Julian said. “I think I... might’ve mentioned him a few times at the afterparty.” _Understatement_ , he thought. But he wasn’t about to specify just how _many_ times he’d managed to steer the conversation back to the topic of a certain Cardassian tailor. Julian added, for Renna’s benefit, “He’s wearing some silly filter, don’t mind his face.”

Renna’s bafflement fell away, and her molten brown eyes widened in astonishment. “ _Garak! Goodness, he’s even more handsome than you described, Doctor._ ” She smiled and admitted, “ _Even as a Human._ ”

Although embarrassed by that comment, Julian chuckled.

He dared not say it in the moment that followed, but it did strike him how impressive it was that so much could change in a mere twenty years. A Bajoran, complimenting a Cardassian...

Then again, Renna wasn’t like many Bajorans. It was no secret that she was the daughter of Cardassian collaborators – two _traitors_ to her people – but in adulthood, the things she’d done in the medical field to support her fellow Bajorans seemed to be her way of ‘making up for it’. By Julian’s calculations she’d only been a child when the Occupation ended. Of course the deeds of her parents had had nothing to do with her, but Julian knew as well as anyone the effects those choices had on a child. There was no escaping it. Only living with it, and doing the best one could do.

She gave Julian hope, really. Dr. Renna Illa had become a bridge between Cardassia and Bajor the moment she’d married a Cardassian, and through her medical projects comparing and contrasting the physiology of the two species, she became a near-silent spokesperson for peace between the two divided peoples.

Although it was uncomfortable to imagine it, Julian supposed he himself represented a bridge between genetically-altered people and the Federation. If he were to follow Renna’s blueprint, he wouldn’t need to _actively_ advocate to bring people’s thinking around. He just needed to do good work. Win a Carrington Award. Prove to everyone that he could be an augment and still have value to Starfleet, and to all Federation species.

“ _May I say,_ ” Garak said, addressing Renna warmly but remaining unseen to Julian, “ _what a_ splendid _headscarf it is you’re wearing._ ”

“ _Oh! Thank you! It has moba leaves on it,_ ” Renna smiled. “ _And it’s actually hand-painted Tholian silk! You wouldn’t_ believe _how hard it is to find good fashion these days..._ ”

“I’m— I’m sorry for the interruption, Doctor,” Julian said with a handwave. “My ‘ _friend_ ’... is certainly not meant to be poking his nose in where it doesn’t belong, but he _does_ do that no matter what I tell him.”

“ _Ohh, it’s no trouble at all! In fact, I’m glad I caught your... ‘_ dear _Mr. Garak’._ ” Her attention skipped to another part of the viewscreen, bright-eyed. “ _I was wondering... any chance I might commission you for a... sartorial piece? I gather you can do mighty_ splendid _things with fabric._ ”

“ _Apologies, dear lady, but I’m_ retired _._ ” Garak sounded a bit impatient now. “ _Thank you for your message, Dr. Renna, but if we could just – move along—_ ”

“ _Pity..._ ” Renna looked like a kicked puppy. “ _It seems all the good tailors are either retired – or dead. And Dr. Bashir was so_ eager _to inform_ all _the other nominees that_ you _designed his entire wardrobe. Tell me – is it just a hobby these days?_ ”

“ _Yes. Yes! A hobby!_ ”

What a ridiculous thing to lie about. Julian lurched forward to interrupt: “He’ll take your commission, Renna. _Won’t_ you, Garak?”

Garak huffed, but didn’t fight. “ _Fine. I suppose. Contact me at Garak’s Clothiers on Cardassia Prime._ ”

“There we go. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Julian smiled. To Renna, he said, “The new shop is a little out of the way, since Garak decided he needed some country air after the great Cardassian rebuild, but you’ll find it. Um – well done, by the way, Renna. For being runner-up.”

“ _No, well done to_ you _, Dr. Bashir. Well-deserved! I will hold onto your medical scanner, and see when I have time to drop by._ ”

“Of course,” Julian said, grateful.

“ _I hear Cardassia’s just_ lovely _this time of year._ ” Renna gave a little wave, then sang, “ _Renna out!_ ”

Garak, back on screen, seemed ponderous. 

“Garak,” Julian said, slightly bothered, “what was _that_ all about? She was perfectly lovely to me at the ceremony. You didn’t need to hurry her along like that.”

“ _I was in the middle of a conversation with_ you _, Doctor!_ ” Garak exclaimed. “ _You can hardly begrudge me for wanting to get back to it..._ ” His expression grew ponderous. “ _She_ was _a bit young..._ ”

“Young?” Julian searched Garak’s face for a sign of what he meant, but the lack of familiar Cardassian features made it tricky. “What do you mean, ‘young’?”

“ _Only that most of the Carrington Award nominees seem to be little more than larvae these days._ ”

Julian muttered, “Yes, well, the idea of waiting until you’re a hundred years old before collecting all due accolades has fallen out of fashion a bit.” He felt discomfort creep down his throat and tickle his belly cold; now he was bothered by what Garak said. “All the other nominees this year... _were_ younger than me, weren’t they?”

Determined to reason with his anxiety, he added, “I could’ve won the award twenty-five years ago, but I didn’t _want_ to win it when I was younger. Once you win this thing – your medical career’s peaked. There’s basically nowhere higher to aim.”

Garak purred, “ _Ohhh, I’m sure you’ll find something productive to do to occupy your time in the coming years._ ”

“Like you?” Julian gave a smile. “You, collecting every Cardassian flower in existence for your garden. Sewing dresses. _Knitting_.”

“ _There is contentment to be found in the simplest of things, my dear friend. For example—_ ”

A computer blarped in a somewhat sickly manner, and Garak huffed in annoyance.

“That’s _definitely_ at your end,” Julian grinned. No Starfleet computer made a noise that silly on purpose.

“ _It’s just a message,_ ” Garak grumbled. He looked down and fiddled with a handheld device. “ _Yes, the seeds— Oh— OH, the seeds! The seeds I ordered will be delivered tomorrow before noon!_ ”

Delighted now, Garak dismissed his message and looked eagerly back to Julian.

Julian couldn’t help but grin. “Well, by the sound of it, my dear Mr. Garak, we’ve _both_ achieved our life’s goals. Aren’t those the last flowers you need for your collection?”

“ _They’re hardly flowers, Doctor. There’s little point in counting blooms before the seeds are sown._ ”

Julian, with mounting unease about his own situation, said, “But what will you do once you’re done? What do you _want_ from life now you’ve achieved the thing you set out to achieve? Now you have to maintain a garden, and keep up appearances, and that’s a whole job, isn’t it—” He realised he was babbling but couldn’t stop. “I mean, did you wait too long? Or did you finish too soon? You have other hobbies – creativity left, right, and centre – but what are _my_ special interests, what do _I_ have? I mean, there’s the holosuite games, and the literary analysis with you over lunch, but there’s nothing I can really devote my life to besides medicine – and I’ve won that game, haven’t I, so unless I take up _tennis_ again and rip my shoulder to pieces, what—”

“ _Doctor! Doctor..._ ” Garak smiled. “ _Julian._ ”

He collected up a thought, then presented it in gentle tones: “ _Between a rock and a hard place, the_ strongest _and most unexpected of flowers will set down their roots. Your future may seem like a wasteland to you now, but with unmediated devotion lavished upon yourself, the second half of your life could in fact become a thriving—_ ”

The runabout’s computer bleeped.

Garak exploded, “ _Oh, for pity’s sake! What must I give to have a decent, uninterrupted conversation with my husband?!_ ”

Julian gave a grim smile and reached to check the incoming message. Another of his competitors. “Computer, dismiss message.”

The notification disappeared and didn’t come back.

Garak sighed heavily. He gave Julian a fond and encouraging look. “ _There is plenty to do here on Cardassia, Julian. Perhaps you’ll call me a hypocrite for saying it, but there’s no need to lie to yourself. You do tend to put on a mask, a filter..._ ” He gestured at his own disguised face. “ _You’ll play the role of a determined man, one eager to best all and come out on top. Yet it’s clear you’re most alive when you’re—_ ”

“Losing?”

“ _Kept busy!_ ” Garak countered. “ _Helping people! Elbow-deep in a problem without a visible solution, tackling one small task at a time until you discover the end result. You don’t need_ awards _, Doctor. As I’ve said... the simplest things can be their own rewards. You only need to impress yourself._ ”

“Oh, here we go.” Julian’s mocking tone was softened by his fondest smile. “And how might I do that? ‘Impress myself’.”

“ _How might you, indeed?_ ” Garak answered: “ _By tending a seedling for a year until it presents its first dewy bloom. By cooking a meal for our friends and family, as you have done with_ remarkable _skill all this time. And, needless to say, my dear, by making a grouchy old Cardassian feel_ exceptionally _loved._ ”

Julian smiled so hard his eyes started to ache, skin all crinkled up beside them.

“ _Now, I suggest,_ ” Garak said, “ _you turn this empty space in your life into a garden. Achieve nothing. Yet appreciate everything._ ”

Alright.

Fine.

Garak really did like his gardening metaphors, didn’t he?

“‘Empty space in your life’,” Julian echoed, tiredly. “Talking of empty spaces, _Garak_ , why aren’t you _here_? Why didn’t you come with me to collect my award? And don’t tell me it was the orchids. _Or_ your _knees_.”

Garak seemed surprised that his ‘good advice’ was being opposed. But then, he smiled, and it was a wide and sly smile, his head tipped slightly down, eye contact intense. “ _My dear Doctor, do you mean to say you_ miss _me?_ ”

“Garak...”

Garak tutted. “ _Tell me, why do you think I made sure you collected your prize at long last? Are you surprised to discover that such academic triumph leaves you underwhelmed these days? Did it ever_ truly _please you, Doctor? Or are you_ still _trying to impress your parents?_ ”

“What?!” Julian drew his head back, squinting, lip quirked up in repulsion at the idea. “I’m not trying to— I haven’t talked to either of them in _years_ , why would I be—? For goodness’ sake—”

He grappled with the concept, still gaping unsurely... but then glanced down and shut his mouth.

“Hmm. God, you’re right.”

It wasn’t just his parents, either – he wanted to win over the entire Federation, didn’t he? Desperate to prove he wasn’t a bad augment. Desperate to make people like him, and make them change their minds about all the other augments too. He’d been so sure he didn’t care, so sure he’d grown past worrying about how he was perceived – but as always, Garak knew him better than he knew himself.

“Of course you’re right,” Julian admitted, quietly. “I mean, it’s not that I’m _trying_ to please them, or anyone, really, but it is immensely hard to let that sort of thing go, isn’t it?”

Garak’s eyes turned glossy, his expression soft and hurt. “ _Yes,_ ” he said, almost to himself.

His story wasn’t so different.

“Even after years,” Julian went on. “Everything in my life taught me I’m only worth the air I breathe if I do something useful with my time and have the _credentials_ to prove it.

“ _And quite the fallacy that is._ ”

Julian exhaled, starting to smile again. “Look, Garak, thanks for the therapy, but you’d better not have sent me out here by myself to have a grand old time being disappointed just to hammer home a point. You’ve spent _twenty years_ learning how to communicate in healthier ways, so if I were you, I’d put all that practise to good use and tell me what you’re really trying to say here.”

Garak laughed gently, eyes sparkling with glee. “ _You truly expect me to tell you? Just like that? My dear Doctor, why express something outright when one can_ imply _?_ ”

“Oh, right! Like you ‘ _imply_ ’ whenever you want a ‘foot massage’?” Julian chuckled. “Come on, out with it, Garak! I know you’re capable.”

Garak gave a huge, beaming sigh, and evidently decided he valued trust over a few more moments of mischief, because he opened his mouth and said, “ _I had hoped... that solitude would make you more acutely aware of what you value for yourself, and nobody else._ ” He softened further, holding Julian’s gaze. “ _Perhaps you’d realise that your biggest successes, Julian... are in fact the little achievements._ ”

He shifted in his garden chair, growing uncomfortable, but carried on, “ _In all our years together, my dear, it seems your excessive ‘sentiment’ has rather corrupted my thinking. It does repulse me to say it, but—_ ”

“Don’t! Don’t. Don’t say it.” Garak went silent, so Julian nodded, and suggested, “I’ll say it.”

Julian rolled a shoulder, then relaxed, determined to believe whatever came out of his mouth next. Maybe if he spoke his intentions, they would be easier to put into effect.

He began: “The important things in my life are what _I_ value and what makes _me_ feel fulfilled. Even if they’re tiny, everyday things. Or even if they’re not measurable. They’re meaningful to me.” He gave Garak an uncertain look. “Is that what you were going for? Kind of?”

Garak hummed. “ _Well, I would not have used a single one of those words, but... yes. That was my meaning._ ”

Julian smiled. “And I’ll say something else, Garak. I think...” He swallowed, becoming more certain of his stance with each cool, measured breath taken in and exhaled out. “I think you’re right.” Softness took hold of his heart, and he pondered aloud, “If anything, the biggest success in my life is somehow keeping _you_ around all these years.”

Julian blinked, then realised with a jolt how many strings Garak must’ve pulled to get him into this position, if only so he could come to that realisation.

“Garak... Did you... send me away so that I’d... _miss you_?” He couldn’t help his smile, having seen Garak’s fond reaction on his viewscreen. “And then what? I’d realise exactly how much I love you?”

Garak just smiled his glitter-eyed reptilian smile, an expression wholly unchanged by his Human appearance.

Julian shook his head, feeling both dazzled and disturbed. “You _did_ , didn’t you! My god, you’re the same as you ever were!”

“ _Oh, oh, oh, oh, now!_ ” Garak chuckled. Tenderly, as tenderly as he’d ever said anything: “ _We all change, Julian. For better or for worse. It is inevitable._ ”

He breathed in, then out. Then he said, with all the love in the universe coating his tongue: “ _But please... Come home to me, my dear._ ”

Julian looked into his eyes, heart warm and aching with affection.

He saw a life before him all of a sudden, and it was a good one.

So he made a promise.

“I’ll be there soon, Elim.”

Garak nodded, then nodded again. “ _Good._ ”

He vanished from the screen, and Julian again looked upon the expanse of space: a starfield that seemed more familiar to him now.

Of course there was work to do, mending the social rifts in the universe they lived in. But there would _always_ be work to do. That work didn’t always have to fall on his shoulders, did it? Garak was right. Julian shouldn’t need to prove anything to anyone.

He could stop for a while.

Because he wanted to... or because he needed to. What good were awards and grand successes, when all he really wanted waited for him when he finally stopped to rest?

He could achieve nothing. And appreciate everything. He could turn the second half of his life into a thriving garden. Someday he might return to this life, but when that time came, he’d be a different man.

Julian reached to adjust controls, letting the computer take over navigation. He smiled, feeling himself become a little more comfortable in his own skin.

“Computer,” he said.

The computer bleeped acknowledgement.

“Set a course for home.”

**{ the end }**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A list of things Sid and Andy added to the script on the spot:** (Their additions in bold.)
> 
> ⋆ Andy: It seems you have a **serious** rival to best. (He added “rather dedicated” in the first performance.)  
> ⋆ Sid: **If you say so.** / Andy: **Oh, I do say so.** (They did this both performances! And fun fact: they NEVER discussed this play between themselves before performing it.)  
> ⋆ Sid: **I’m—** I’m sorry **for the interruption** , Doctor.  
> ⋆ Andy: Yes, yes! **A hobby!**  
>  ⋆ Irena: I will hold onto your medical scanner, and see when I have time to drop by. / Sid: **Of course.**  
>  ⋆ Andy: She _was_ a bit young... / Sid: **I didn’t know what you _meant_ by young.** (This was altered from the script’s “What do you mean, young?” because the scene with Renna had gone terribly wrong due to technical issues, and Sid and Andy ad-libbed brilliantly around the entire character, grappling for the lines to get back to where they needed to be. So if that sounds a bit disconnected, that’s why. We lost the line “You can hardly begrudge me for wanting to get back to it” in there as well.)  
> ⋆ Andy: There is contentment to be found in the simplest of things, **my dear friend**. (This said “Doctor” in the script. I desperately appreciate this change!)  
> ⋆ Andy: **Yes, the seeds— Oh— OH, the seeds!** The seeds I ordered will be delivered tomorrow before noon! (The PURE ENTHUSIASM was all Andy.)  
> ⋆ Sid: And **I understand** that’s a whole job. (Script said “and that’s a whole job, isn’t it?”)  
> ⋆ Andy: ...the second half of your life could in fact become a thriving **adventure** — (I’m convinced he wrote that extra word on his script printout in case the computer didn’t interrupt at the right time. The unsaid word was meant to be “garden” but he didn’t know that.)  
> ⋆ Sid: But it is immensely hard to let that sort of thing go, isn’t it? / Andy: **Yes.** (He fully got teary-eyed at that moment in the first performance. I think the line hit him in the actual feels.)  
> ⋆ Andy: Perhaps you’d realise that your biggest successes, **Julian**... are in fact the little achievements.  
> ⋆ Sid: Is that what you were going for? **Kind of?**  
>  ⋆ Andy: **Well** , I would not have used a single one of those words, but... yes. **That was my meaning.** (There was an “unfortunately” before “yes” in the script but he softened this entire thing SO MUCH towards the end. Andy ships soft happy Garashir harder than anyone, y’all.)
> 
> And especially these closing moments:
> 
> ⋆ Sid: My god, you’re the same as you ever were! **It’s infuriating!**  
>  ⋆ Andy: Oh, **oh, oh, oh, now!** We all change, Julian. For better or for worse. It is inevitable. **But please...** Come home to me, my dear.  
> ⋆ Sid: I’ll be there soon, Elim.  
> ⋆ Andy: **Good.**  
>  ⋆ Sid: **Computer... set a course for home.**
> 
> They took my ending and made it their own. So, obviously, I am a creature of pure delight. ♥
> 
> Thank you again - to Sid, Andy, Mel, all the friends who helped out on this production, all of the regular Sid City Social Club people who showed up for a good time, all the people who showed up JUST for my play, and all the people here reading this. Creating “Little Achievements” was the most joyous and soul-expanding thing I’ve ever done in my life and that was ENTIRELY because of the wonderful people I’ve shared these moments with.
> 
> Elmie x

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Little Achievements - The Healer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26175016) by [Syaunei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syaunei/pseuds/Syaunei)
  * [In Safety](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26637220) by [IcyKali](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyKali/pseuds/IcyKali)




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